Restless
by A Somewhat Amazing Teen
Summary: See, with a beast inside of you there is two minds working at once. One that is very much human, and the other that is vicious, hungry, lustful and dangerous. So she claws and growls and whines in pain as she sleeps. Farkas can't stand it, but tolerates it- for he understands the feeling. It's tough getting used to, but maybe with the help of a friend, it can be done.


Farkas x OC

Her strength and passion for the Companions was noted on her first day. She easily fit in with most, but not Farkas.

"False passion. She doesn't understand what she's gotten herself into," the stronger of the brothers muttered to the smarter.

"Why don't you trust her, brother?" Vilkas inquired.

"She's too good at what she does for her own good."

Vilkas chuckled and slapped his brother of blood on the back. "You're just jealous she can wield a sword better than you."

And she could.

Persephone was a strong, passionate young Nord who loved what she did and was good at it.

She mourned Skjor's death just as the rest of them did and tried to embrace her beastblood like Skjor had.

Tried.

It kept her awake at night and drained her of energy later.

After gaining more respect from Kodlak, she was moved into Farkas' room- much to his displeasure.

As she was leaving the room for supper, said roommate blocked her exit. She was a whole head shorter than he.

She slowly brought her gaze up to the taller man's more intimidating one. "Need some-" she started.

He cut her off. "You're not going to live up to Skjor," he stated in a rough voice.  
"I-" she started, furrowing her eyebrows.

"You won't earn my respect. Learn your place, whelp." Then he stalked off.

She stood there a moment, hurt and confusion crossing her features. After she processed it all, she set a neutral look on her face and went to dine.

She sat in her usual spot and immersed herself in mead and nothing else all through supper, being uncharacteristically silent through the whole meal.

At some point she dozed off, lying her head on the table, her brunette locks covering her face. Vilkas sat next to her and she woke with a start as he did.

"Are you alright?" he asked kindly.

"I'm fine," she said quickly and yawned, letting out a yelp as dogs did sometimes while yawning.

"You don't have to listen to my brother, you now. He can be..."

"A dick?" she suggested. He smiled a little.

"Don't mind his foul behavior."

Another night of growling, kicking and tearing fur off the bed.

Farkas understood the restlessness and aches, but that didn't stop him from wanting to smother her to death every night.

He got up bright and early that next morning to hunt, but he didn't want to go alone. His bother was out on a job, though...

Aela? Probably out already.

His eyes went to the brunette on the other side of the room. She finally looked peaceful. A ghost of a smile almost reached his lips.

Ghosts don't exist, he decided. Because he was eager to disturb her young, beautiful body's peace.

"Persephone," he said loud and rough, then shook her. She groaned and her blue eyes opened, crusted with sleep.

Everything ached. There wasn't a single muscle in her body that wasn't affected by pain. And with Farkas shaking her it didn't help. Another groan escaped her lips.

"Get up. We're going hunting."

She howled with pain as she stood up and stretched, then ran a hand through her dirty brown hair.

Farkas looked the other way and got his bow and arrows ready while she dressed in her light, soft leather armor. She then made sure she had enough arrows as well as a simple iron dagger at her hip.

"Let's go," she said, her voice exhausted and hinted with aggression toward Farkas.

A smirk reached his lips when he heard that tone directed at him.

Hours later, miles outside of Whiterun, they had made an elk, two rabbits and a wolf.

They both sat next to a little spring, Farkas skinning the elk and Persephone skinning the rabbits and wolf.

She pushed her brown hair behind her ear and kept her eyes on the blade as she cleaned it of blood.

"Why do you hate me?" she asked.

He looked up at her slowly in surprise. "Huh?"

"Why do you not call me sister when I wholeheartedly call you my brother?" she questioned, rephrasing her question.

Vilkas says it's because you're better with a sword than me," Farkas said with a shrug.

"So it's jealousy?" she asked, not sounding amused like the man had expected, but disapointed and dejected. Hurt, all around. "But Aela is better with a bow and you don't hate her," she said in her defense. "And your brother is smarter than you and you still call him brother."

He didn't like her sizing him up like that.

"It's envy. Not jealousy," he told her.

She finally made eye contact with him. Confusion was written on her face.

"I'm not jealous," he said. "I just envy your skills."

There was a long silence between them as they skinned their kills until Farkas looked up and in a gruff voice said, "And I do call you my sister."

She scoffed but didn't look up. "Divines tell me when!" she laughed wryly.

After a little more silence, they finished up and Persephone suggested home and mead.

Farkas enthusiastically agreed and set off quick. She followed after him. "Slow down," she told him, her body sagging with exhaustion and soreness.

"You're a restless sleeper," he said, only about a hundred yards away from the stables.  
Her gaze snapped up to his from the ground. "Huh?"

"You're a restless sleeper," he repeated and continues at her confusion and embarrassment. "You toss and turn, groan and growl," he stated and sighed. "You don't handle your blood very well." There was a little pause.

"How do you control it?" she asked softly as they passed the stables. The horses neighed as they walked on. There was an unspoken hatred between he beasts and other animals.

"You don't," he replied. She never remembered him talking this much to her over the course of a day. "You just lean to live with the aches and you learn not to feel tired. That or you just give up. Turn and never turn back. Become a savage. It's the easy way out."  
A long silence followed as they entered the city.

"It plagues your mind," he finally said.

The young, blue eyed Nord wondered why most Companions didn't just turn to Skooma. She probably would have if she didn't know any better.

They sold the pelts and a portion of their meat at the stalls, then after splitting the gold, they made their way back to Jorvaskrr for supper and bathing.

After her fill of meat and mead, Persephone peeled off her armor and put on simple robes before taking her messy braid out and walking to the back of the living quarters to the bathouse.

She quickly disrobed and relaxed into the water. Her muscles relaxed and the hot water ebbed away the soreness.

Maybe she'd finally sleep well that night.

Countless, sleepless, painful nights followed.

Farkas listened as she groaned and growled and tossed and turned, but didn't ever wake her again as she finally got peace.

He learned to cherish those last few hours of quiet and he knew she cherished them too.

Every night he listened to her, using her pained sounds to drown out his own aches. And after night after night without a full night of peace, Farkas got to feeling bad for her.

In fact, he started to feel so bad for her that he brought it up to Kodlak.

"She doesn't know how to handle it," he explained to their Harbinger. "She tries to embrace it like Aela does and how Skjor did, but her body can't handle it. She's a lot smaller than most of the girls. Yes, she is strong, but not the way Skjor was."

Kodlak nodded, but looked grim. "There is nothing we can do unless we can find a cure."

Farkas wanted to growl at him, but he held it in.

"That time has yet to come, young one," the Harbinger told Farkas.

And then it was night. And he was in bed. It was dark other than the blue coming in from the window.

The strong man had forgotten the blue eyed woman was in the room until he heard her stir and let out a soft groan.

His chest tightened at her pain and he pawed where his heart was, his eyes growing wide at the feeling and not knowing why or what to do about it.

Midnight came and went.

And and hour after that, Persephone was still tossing and turning. He'd heard weeks of this! He decided he had to do something about it.

So he swung his legs over the bed and slowly stood up as not to disturb her. Maybe he could just smother her and she could be a huntsman forever.

He stopped short about a foot away from her bed when she turned toward him with a howl.

He didn't breath for a moment.

When her breath evened out with sleep, his did as well and he approached the bed more.

He looked at her for a moment and decided he couldn't smother her and ruin her chance to go to Sovengarde. He kneeled next to the bed and watched her hands twitch and clench.

He reached up with a calloused hand and brushed a few stray strands of dirty brown hair from her face. Her eyes fluttered open and a sigh of relief escaped her parted lips.

Farkas had frozen in place, his hand poised behind her ear where he had brushed her hair to. A little lazy smile played on the woman's lips for a moment, like she was in a good dream she hadn't had since she became a beast, then her eyes closed and she took a deep breath.

It was a few more minutes before he moved again, but the whole time his hand was on her body, she stayed peaceful. He finally stood up and removed his hand, but then he did something he hadn't expected himself to do;

He climbed into bed with her.

In fact, he did more than that. He wrapped his arms around the woman's body and held her close.

Another relieved sigh slipped though her slightly parted lips.

When she started to toss, he'd hold her tight. And when she'd groan or growl he's shush her with a kiss. He told himself it was only to keep her quiet, but every time her eyes fluttered open, and that lazy smile appeared on her face, his chest would tighten in that weird way.

"It's like there;s butterflies in there or somethhing," he confided in his brother. In which the smarter one smiled, knowing exactly what was up.

It silently became agreed between the man and the woman that he would crawl into bed with her after she fell asleep or showed any signs of distress at night.

Slowly, her sleeplessness and pain drained from her body in his hold. His back rubs and kisses and whispers and cooes kept her peaceful.

Slowly, he looked forward to night.

Slowly, he fell for her. And even slower the blue eyed brunette fell for him.

Slowly, she was no longer restless.


End file.
